10 - Postcard from Houston, “Wasting Time at The West Alabama Ice House”

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Houston is a place that's rich in diversity and innovation. It readily embraces modernity and is less burdened by the weight of tradition one feels in other southern cities. This can be wonderfully liberating. At the same time, many argue its embrace of the new makes it challenging to define. "Houston has a bad habit of destroying our history," one resident confessed to us. But if there's one place that flies in the face of this town's sleek, steel and glass uber-developments, it's The West Alabama Ice House. Opened in 1928 on an unremarkable corner in Montrose, this low frills, outdoor, dog friendly, picnic table lined beer joint not only straddles the past and present of Central Houston, but might even provide a few lessons worth considering as this Gulf Coast metropolis continues its march forward.

For more info on the West Alabama Ice House, check out their facebook page here.

To see some of the photos David Richmond has documented of Houston area ice houses, and check out a few of his speculative designs, find him on Instagram - @ds.richmond

TRANSCRIPT

(As this transcript was obtained via a computerized service, please forgive any typos, spelling and grammatical errors)

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Lydia (00:02):

Houston has great people. People are friendly. They're down to earth. We're completely used to being dogged on by every other city in the country. So we got no cliques. We're all just cool. We're all just like whatever, you know, uh, cause we're used to always being on the bottom of the pile. Being ragged on.

Evan (00:30):

Let's keep it real. People don't move to Houston the way some move to LA, New York or Portland. God knows it wasn't the climate or scenery that lured my parents here from Austin. It was economics plain and simple. Like many, they came kicking and screaming, but years later they're still here and like many they're staying. Turns out, people end up liking Houston okay, and maybe I've come around to understanding a little bit why. After all, it's as friendly, a big city I've ever known and the food is fantastic. It's also rich in innovation and diversity and is less burdened by the weight of tradition, one feels and other Southern cities. Open a restaurant menu here, and you'll likely notice dishes like Texas quail tandoori, Viet Cajun crawfish, or brisket fried rice. But while this town's constant embrace of the modern, no doubt, has its benefits, it also carries some frustrations.

Marcia (01:29):

That Houston has a really bad habit of destroying our culture, our older, older establishments, uh, Freedman's town, how that's been, you know, so much history in there that it's been built over by new townhouses and everything else. A lot of the best bars that have been around 20, 30 years have been, I've worked at so many that are no longer around and kind of the institutions. I don't see Houston- It's not a let's save our history. It's let's bulldoze it and put a townhome or let's put something modern with steel and glass. And it's just, that's my biggest complaint about Houston.

Evan (02:10):

But if there's one place I know that's far from sleek. It's the West Alabama Ice House. Opened in 1928 on an unremarkable corner, this low frills, outdoor, dog-friendly picnic table lined beer joint not only straddles the past and present of central Houston, but might even provide a few lessons worth considering as this sprawling Gulf coast metropolis continues its march forward. I'm Evan Stern and this is Vanishing Postcards.

Evan (04:07):

Years ago, my parents and I somehow fell into the custom of playing cards at bars. Our game of choice is spite and malice. And if you've never heard of it, it involves two decks, and could maybe be described as a super mean multi-player cousin of solitaire. We've dealt rounds and hotel lounges all over the world. But my favorite place to play just might be The West Alabama Ice House. And that's where we are today.

Mom (04:47):

It could be a two beer day. You know, what is really cool is the buckets of beer they have. Back in the day would have been attractive- a bucket of beers!

Evan (04:58):

Google the ice house. And you might see a Yelper reference this place as "The Montrose neighborhood's communal backyard." But I think I like my mom's description best.

Mom (05:09):

Only place I've ever been, where you could overhear a conversation where two guys were talking for half an hour about golf where the ball was referred to as "That motherfucker."

Evan (05:27):

I'll never forget the first time we came here. I was visiting for some reason. Dad was at work and having passed by a few times, mom and I figured we'd give the place a try. We bought some beer, sat down at a picnic table, pulled out our deck and started to play. But the real entertainment that afternoon turned out to be a young chain smoking brunette who was sitting at the bar, nursing, a bud and a broken nose.

Evan (05:52):

You don't remember the first time. How could you forget about the first time we came here?

Mom (05:57):

You mean that woman who was telling the story of the fight she'd had with the girlfriend in the motel room in New Orleans. Thing is, we've never come across her again.

Evan (06:10):

The line that sticks out to me in that whole ordeal that she kept repeating was "Man, by the time we were done with each other, there was blood all over that motel room. It looked like somebody got murdered in there. But of course after she broke her wrist, she couldn't do nothing to me. And you know, I told this to my dad. He said, you mean, after all that karate I paid for you couldn't do nothing?!

Mom (06:36):

Yeah. She was a beautiful specimen.

Evan (06:40):

That was many years ago. And as the neighborhood has mellowed, so has the Ice House and its crowd. Bikers still stop by here, but Dos Equis is no longer the only non domestic option. You can now even get Pinot Grigio in a plastic cup if you like. The patio has expanded a bit and you can also catch the Astros or Rockets on a flat screen TV. Still, the bones and feel of the place remain intact. And in speaking to owner, Pete Markantonis, it's clear he values the history, the Ice House represents.

Pete Markantonis (07:14):

So ice houses, uh, basically were, uh, ice drop-off points, uh, along I 10 in the south. Uh, because back in the twenties, people didn't have refrigerators, they had ice boxes and you would have to have a local, local ice house to go get your blocks of ice because they, you had to be close because a block of ice would melt. And so they, they really started out as a country stores, uh, early day convenience stores. Um, there was usually one in every neighborhood just like, uh, today's, uh, convenience stores. And, um, they became, uh, not only places for you to get perishables, drinks and boxes of ice, but they became, um, meeting places for the neighborhood because in those days people didn't have air conditioning. And so on a hot summer day, the only thing to do was either work in the yard or go to the local watering hole, ice house, drink, cold drinks, play washers or horseshoes with neighbors and gossip and have fun

Evan (08:28):

Ice houses took root all over the state. In Dallas, there was even a chain that kept the long hours of 7 to 11. And I think we all know what they grew into. But as refrigeration became accessible and air conditioning was invented, they started to melt away. And Pete will tell you that Houston's growth hasn't always helped

Pete Markantonis (08:50):

In the early days. Um, there were ice houses in every little bitty, tiny neighborhood, every little neighborhood, uh, like let's say square quarter of a mile, had an ice house. And over the years I've watched all those either get shut down by the neighbors because they became too dangerous or too loud. Uh, uh, one of them pick and pack got shut down because he had the owner was allowing loud rock music. And it's always been a fear of ours here. Um, we've had live music in the past and the neighbors have pretty much let us know by calling the police over and over again that it's just not a good idea.

Evan (09:29):

While many bars have adopted the title. Original ice houses can be hard to find. Yet. The West Alabama has hung in there and even thrived against the odds. Sitting out back while a dog quietly roams and its owner shoots hoops behind us, Pete tells me of his family history and how his immigrant father came to buy the spot in 1985.

Pete Markantonis (09:50):

And this building right next door was where he got his first job as a geologist. And, uh, he loved geology, but he hated having to work for somebody else. And it was, and, and Greeks always loved, you know, Greeks in this town opened up gas stations, garages, restaurants, and bars. And my dad would look out from the windows of this, uh, little building next door and look at this ice house and say, I want to open a little beer joint like that, or a little bar like that. And, uh, it's funny that probably, uh, 30 years, 35, 40 years later, he, uh, got his hands on the West Alabama Ice House. First- when I found out my dad got this place, I was 18 years old. And, um, I came here and, I was driving a 1969 Camaro. This is back in 1985.

Pete Markantonis (10:52):

Uh, and so coming here, the place was so run down. Uh, the whole neighborhood was full of abandoned houses and abandoned businesses. The neighborhood was, uh, you could probably buy a house in, uh, in the mid eighties for $60,000, uh, which now they're, uh, the land value is closer to $400,000. So, um, it was, it looked like a rundown shack. Uh, I had no idea that when I first came here that this was going to be a lifelong project for me because I've spent the last 33 years, uh, repairing, building, expanding, uh, trying to make it, uh, pay for the property taxes that have rose steadily over the years. And, um, but it's been a lot of fun, loved every minute of it. Um, and I'm still here.

Evan (11:47):

As I said earlier today, Houston is diverse and by some metrics is now the most mixed city in the nation that this wasn't always the case. So I asked Pete how he and his dad were first received in those early days.

Pete Markantonis (12:02):

Yeah. Over the years when it, when I first got here this place, like I was saying earlier, we had about 150 to 200 old retirees coming in here. And they did not like me when I started working here with my dad. Um, they didn't like us period because for one thing, my dad was Greek and he had a Greek accent and, uh, they probably made comments that he was, uh, uh, Middle Eastern or something like that. And, uh, they didn't like some young kid, uh, changing their bar, uh, because from the get go, I started to clean the place out and replaced the rotten wood. Cause it was a falling down dump. And started to add TVs and add, uh, seating. And, uh, but they gradually got used to me. And um, most of them became really good friends of mine.

Evan (12:52):

Years later, The West Alabama is still a true family run operation. Pete's daughters tend bar a few days out of the week while his long hair twenty-something nephew, Mikey assists most days with managerial duties. Dressed like a skater and smoking a menthol cigarette, he tells me that his love for this place and work was immediate.

Mikey (13:11):

So I was looking for a job just some extra money to help my mom out and give me some cash to go spend at school. So I started bar backing and bar backing is just, you know, icing, stocking, you know, not serving beer. So yeah, that was my first memory here. And it felt, I felt like I was, it wasn't an accident that I was here. It felt good. It felt like I was supposed to be here. Like I was late. You know?

Evan (13:42):

He also argues that The West Alabama is more Greek than meets the eye.

Mikey (13:45):

It's it's, it's a Greek thing, you know, it's, it's like, um, I don't want to say it's a mafia, but it's like a loving mafia. It's a love party out here. You know, everyone wants, just wants to listen to good music, watch a couple of games and enjoy a cold beer. And that's that's that's if you go to Greece, that's the heart of Greece- hanging out.

Evan (14:07):

But make no mistake. While, you might notice a "Make America Greek Again," bumper sticker taped behind the bar, the feel here is way more Texas than Mediterranean. That's something day bartender, Marcia, a pony tailed, 40 something is quick to mention, when I asked her to describe the ice house,

Marcia (14:24):

You're gonna have a nice time. It's a relaxed environment and it's just, yeah, it's just an institution in Houston. It's something that I think everybody you come here once you have a better understanding almost of what Texas and Houston is.

Evan (14:39):

This is a sentiment that Lydia, a curly haired mother of two, who works most Sunday and Tuesday evening seems to agree with. Though, she jokes that Marcia is one of the newer fixtures around here as she's only serving for five years.

Lydia (14:53):

I was working in a water quality lab, which meant I was in, um, fluorescent lighting all day long and I never saw the sun shine and I decided I wanted to work outside. And I was tired of that. And, um, been here ever since -

Evan (15:11):

That was 20 years ago. Since then, she'll tell you that she met her husband and celebrated two baby showers here. And her appreciation for this place runs deep

Lydia (15:21):

To me. It's the heart of Houston. It's like, it's so old that the neighborhoods grew up kind of around it. And it's a place where you're going to have your people from River Oaks, meeting your people from the Montrose, meeting your people from West U. And we all just get along and learn to tolerate each other and get along. And it's a it's, it is kind of like the melting pot to me, which is what I love about it.

Evan (15:54):

Say what you will cold beer does have a certain way of bringing people together. On a more serious note, so can natural disaster. And in the immediate days, following Hurricane Harvey, a storm that devastated Houston in immeasurable ways, The Ice House provided something of a sanctuary for those seeking a place to commiserate.

Pete Markantonis (16:14):

Um, it's been kind of funny. People have come to realize that when a hurricane is coming, this is the place to come because we don't close. Uh, we don't close until the wind starts blowing and it gets dangerous. And, uh, we usually try to open the next day. Right after Hurricane Ike, you could literally stand in the street and you couldn't see a car. All the way down West Alabama, you could see the Transco Tower and no car all the way down West Alabama. The whole town seemed deserted, but the ice house was packed. Uh, there wasn't a table available. Uh, and we, we sold pretty much sold out of beer on that day,

Mikey (16:58):

But people came in here, I guess, to forget about that. So I got really good energy. I got really good vibes after Harvey was an atmosphere of, oh, half of them were like, "Oh, let's start over. You know, we're in that building period again, you know, let's start over." So it was, it was which I like to think it was a more positive look at things. It wasn't a, "Oh man, this stupid storm. I got to do this. I got to pay for that. I'm going to have to buy my wife a new car." You know, it wasn't like that. It was more of a "Man, that was horrible, but let's go. Let's start over. I mean, nothing's changed. I'm, I'm, uh, we're all alive. You know, water can't stop us. We didn't drown, you know, so let's keep going."

Marcia (17:45):

Taco truck was open. The convenience store over there was open. And we opened. We opened late. I think we opened at two or three in the afternoon instead of 10:00 AM, but we were open and it was kind of a little refuge. If you could get here safely, you could get some tacos. You could get, you know, your sundries from the convenience store. You could come over and talk to other people from the neighborhood about what was going on and about the whole situation. And it was very, it was kind of a, a warm environment in here because people were going through so much and stressed out and couldn't talk to family or what was going on. And they could come here and talk to others and get news and just kind of emotionally connect. It was, that was actually one of my, the prouder things, it was like, yeah, we were open. You bet. We were open during Harvey.

Evan (18:41):

It was this spirit of interaction that local architect, David Richmond witnessed at the West Alabama that inspired him to spend a year photographing and documenting ice houses all over Houston via a grant he received from the Rice Design Alliance.

David Richmond (18:54):

I think as an architecture student, there was something, there was a strangeness to an ice house because it's so open air, uh, in their design that interior and exterior sort of collage onto each other. So, um, so I think probably just a few beers in, uh, with college friends that just, I, I, I kind of just became fascinated by, uh, I think the space, that ice houses takes up in the city.

Evan (19:23):

This simple act of remaining open to the elements, he tells me flies in the face of Houston's over air conditioned shopping malls, mega churches, and uber developments. He argues that while this city lacks historic town squares, its ice houses have provided collective front porches that bring people together out of their cars and houses. With this in mind, he conceived a speculative project in which he took the ice house concept and tested how it might translate into public use. This resulted in a series of designs for proposed ice house, inspired pavilions along Brays Bayou, a waterway that spans 30 miles through a microcosm of communities, but has few places for groups to actually congregate.

David Richmond (20:08):

I think the ice house would give us space within the park that you can stop or slow down, um, and just be in a group without the need to be moving. I think, um, and I think that's the type of space that Houston doesn't have as much of, um, in that I think most of our bar, our park spaces are for running, um, or just like moving through for exercise. Um, and then our other gathering places are like malls. So I think like an outdoor place to just be in a group and it not be charged admission.

Evan (20:47):

While Houston's diversity is often discussed, he argues in writing that little of it is seen in its public areas. How interesting that in looking to these spaces representative of Houston's past, David sees a potential bridge to a more unified future, but what does the crystal ball hold for the West Alabama? I asked Pete about those tax burdens he mentioned, and if he's had any developers come circling-

Pete Markantonis (21:14):

We've had, um, quite a few people asking to buy the place, uh, and you know, money talks, bullshit walks, and they've never offered what I think this place is worth. And quite honestly, I really don't want to let it go

Evan (21:31):

Remembering my talk with Brian Mayes at Sam's barbecue in Austin, I can't help but ask what he would say to $5 million.

Pete Markantonis (21:40):

Um, I'd be a, I'd probably say uh, I'm going to Greece

Evan (21:45):

After a lifetime of hard work, I probably do the same. Still, I'm glad the West Alabama's here. The taco truck across the street has the best al pastor store in town. The people watching remains colorful and in a divided age, Lydia and David will tell you, these spaces are needed.

Lydia (22:07):

You can interact with people and they're your neighbors. You're going to meet your neighbors. They're going to become your friends. That's what the Ice House is all about. And so we don't need the AC, you know, we don't need the fancy stuff because it's just about the basic human niceness and kindness, the need to make friends and interact. And, you know, there are a lot of lonely people out there who just want to have a beer afte work and have a nice friendly face to come say hi, and know who you are and, you know,

David Richmond (22:47):

Well, I think people need to patron these spaces, um, in order to keep them for when they need them. I don't know. Like, I think it's, uh, since there's all the talk of, I guess like the, you know, the country becoming more, uh, separate into our own little corners, or I think the public spaces, I think become more and more important for getting out there and seeing other people, um, and, and hearing from people that you don't necessarily, uh, see on a daily basis, just as a, just as a way of also just like shared experience in a city, I think is important. I think you can, for you to be able to feel part of the city and relate to others in it. I think you need to have these types of spaces that everyone can, everyone has been to. And everyone knows -

Evan (23:37):

If there's one thing we've learned over this past year, it's that shared experiences and human interactions are important. Hanging out at the ice house in February 2020, David and I couldn't have conceived of how much our day to day routines were about to change. The next time I saw Pete wasn't in person, but some months later on the cover of the New York times. He was pictured boxing up inventory in preparation for a second shutdown. And though a mask obscured most of his face, his eyes couldn't betray the moment's stress. Pandemics are different than hurricanes. And while I believe precautions have been and continue to prove necessary, am resolute in my conviction that not enough has been done to help hard working owners like Pete and the places they represent. A while back, I saw a viral post where someone asked "What the hell is a dive bar?" To which another passionately replied, "A dive bar is where customers bring you dinner and move your car for you. Where no one can give you a hard time without an ass kicking from your customers and where you aren't a bartender, but a family member to the people you serve."

Evan (24:55):

I can imagine Lydia and Marcia nodding in agreement. The west Alabama IS a community and it's one worth fighting for. And while this virus and the uncertainty that surrounds us remains very real. I, for one am grateful they're open again and hope it stays this way. Their outdoor setting feels safe. I'm vaxxed. And happy to be back- because whenever I play here, I tend to win.

Mom (25:31):

This is no fun when only one person wins all the freaking time.

Evan (25:39):

Glad I got that on the record.

 

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